Wild Bastard by Ella Savitskaya (book suggestions .txt) 📕

Marina

"No!"

I start pounding on the glass with my fists, and then, not controlling myself, I pounce on Larry with a yell "Let me out, asshole!"

The bodyguard pulls me away from him, whose face I've managed to claw my nails into and leave several deep scratches, but I don't care what he can do now. I'll kill them all if I have to.

"Let the psycho go" I hear the organizer barking angrily "She's no use anyway"

In the moments when I'm rushing down the stairs and pushing the crowd aside, my insides are ringing. I can't think of a single thought. I don't even know what I can do, because they won't let me in the ring anyway. It's been fenced off as of late, and even if I wanted to scratch the eyes out of the scumbag beating Matthew's face right now, I wouldn't be able to.

I just need to be there. Next to him.

Tell him that his rival has brass knuckles, maybe the ref will stop him. And it turns out I'm even shouting a denunciatory fact at the top of my voice, but I can't be heard over the music.

And also, because of my shock, I don't immediately realize that at one point Matthew manages to push the bastard away and even punch him in the face.

I am thrown by the eruption of hope. My heart aches just looking at Matt. His ribs are bruised, there are abrasions on his shoulders, and blood runs down his forehead.

He'd never walked away from a fight like that before. But now... God, I can only imagine how badly he's been hurt. I distinctly remember the feeling of being beaten. Every inch of your body hurting. I wasn't beaten with a brass knuckle, but with a dark rolling pin, stolen from the kitchen and wrapped in a sheet to leave less evidence.

"Reenah, I'm scared" Lana's voice pulls me away from watching the ring intently.

The girl looks scared, shocked. I don't hesitate to pull her against me, letting her hide on my shoulder. I'll realize later that this was the moment when the little girl finally forgave me and came looking for confirmation that Matthew would be all right, from me, not from Alex. I don't notice how I hold the frightened girl close to me, and I shudder myself.

Matthew is strong. He's the strongest, hardest-willed bastard I know.

I don't know if I'm saying it out loud or repeating it to myself like a mantra, but when he manages to knock his opponent to the mat and, with his knee on his arm, pull the glove off his wrist and throw the knuckles out for all to see, I start laughing. A hysterical laugh filled with relief, a moment of triumph and all-consuming pride leaves my lungs in spurts.

With force, I dig my fingers into the netting around the ring, and Lana stares at her brother with her face out from under her palms.

Losing his weapon, the guy immediately deflates expectantly. All his strength was in that tiny forbidden thing.

Matthew, catching his confusion, throws a few precise punches and finally knocks him out.

The crowd screams and revolts, realizing they've almost been tricked. A frown goes up and beer cans fly into the net, others whistle in support of Matthew, and I can't take my eyes off of him when I realize he's completely out of power. While the referee is holding his hand, announcing the winner, Matthew sways to and fro, his eyes cannot focus, and then suddenly he begins to slowly settle on the mats and at one point he passes out altogether.

I can't remember how terrified I am, so I yank the net back on myself, demanding the referee let me in, and he obeys, more to Red than to me, but it doesn't matter now.

"Matthew!"

Instead of a pitiful plea, a furious growl erupts from my throat. I fall to my knees beside my battered psycho and immediately press my lips to his, trying to see if he's breathing or not. Lana's sobs come from behind me, someone calling for an ambulance, and I stare at the blood caked over his broad brow and feverishly run my palms over his battered face.

I don't know how hard the bastard was hitting. Maybe Matthew had a concussion or something worse. I can't think at all. I start to shake, ice-cold sweat rolls down my back, but instead of the tears I was expecting, a wave of rage erupts from within me. He shouldn't have done this to me.

"Matthew!" I put my hands on his wet shoulders and shake him as hard as I can. "You win! Do you hear me? You win! Like you always do! Proved once again that not even a brass knuckle can break you. Now get up"

My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely hear my own voice. Realizing that my words are drowning in the sweat-soaked and tense air, I growl even more desperately and shake him even harder, as if struggling with someone unseen.

"You said there were WE now. Don't you dare leave me alone! I believed you. I believed that we could go on together. I agreed to go to medical school, to take pre-med classes, to work as an administrator at the sports club five hours a day" The words pour out in an uncontrollable stream as I'm turned inside out, and he doesn't even move in response. At least a tiny movement, barely discernible. "I bought scented balls for the living room today. For the first time in my life, I bought fucking scented balls. For us. I'll kill you if you leave me. I'll hate you! You hear me?!? I already hate you! I hate you! I love you, you goddamn bastard!"

Drops of tears drip down on Matthew's chin, covered in abrasions and sweat, run down his neck, leaving wet trails. It is like I have disappeared, fallen into a dark pit from which there is no way out and no way to breathe. I got frozen with anticipation and fear of losing someone who had become so important in my life in a short period of time. Who was able to give me the hope of being able to move on as a couple instead of alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't do it on my own. Not after learning that I could be needed by someone.